


Every time we say goodbye

by raima_evans



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dreams vs. Reality, Episode Fix-It: s03e07 Digestivo, Episode: s03e07 Digestivo, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Is that a thing, Kinda hurt/comfort if you squint, M/M, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, everyone is so soft and damaged, otp: i let you see me, so is Will's, soft hannibal is my jam, welcome to my wishful thinking, what is even happening, will gets cold, winter fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21561427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raima_evans/pseuds/raima_evans
Summary: Will wishes sometimes that life were as simple as his dreams.Hannibal takes a steadying breath for a conversation he doesn't want to have.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been tripping over this idea for quite some time now and I hadn't been able to put it into words. So difficult to work with some images and a few dialogues amongst all the feels. Hope you guys find some sense out of this mess.

He was closing the door, sparing a last thought to Chiyo, wishing her good luck in her endeavors, when he heard Will’s voice.

“Hannibal?”

For a moment he had to stop. He was not prepared to hear what would surely come out of Will’s mouth.

He couldn’t face it again, that rejection, his words cutting as deep as all the wounds he himself had inflicted upon the man.

So many months apart and he still hadn’t found a way to get rid of this ugly feeling: regret. So hard to identify but there it was at last, what he had been dealing with for the past months. Not sadness, nostalgia, hate, jealousy or anger but regret.

Hannibal had done this to himself, to them, and as much as he wanted to blame it on the rest of the world and make them pay for it, he had only himself to blame.

He closed his eyes for a second and with a deep breath he turned to face the figure prone on the bed; yet, before he could utter a word, he was greeted with the last thing he was expecting… a smile.

“What are you doing up? It’s freezing.”

“Up?” His bafflement forbade him to come up with a better answer.

There was something off about the way Will had spoken. He sounded tired, yes, but not nearly as irritated as Hannibal thought he would, after the last few days. Instead, what he found was fondness, an intimacy in the voice with which he had spoken, the kind of voice one would use when two people knew they were alone and there was no need to raise their volume.

Why such tenderness was directed at him? Hannibal didn’t know, as he didn’t know either why the next question was asked.

“Why are you out of bed this early? Did you take out the dogs?”

While Hannibal struggled to keep his confusion to a minimum, Will didn’t so much as arrange his head on the pillow to direct another smile at him, turning on his side to better look at Hannibal in his predicament.

Petrified with indecision, Hannibal hadn’t even managed to move from the door. Nothing in Will’s behavior made any sense.

He looked relaxed, comfortable; dare he say happy about his presence. Nothing that indicated he resented the events of mere hours ago. If it weren’t for the gauze still glaring at him on Will’s forehead, he might have reconsidered the possibility of time travel being real.

And no matter how many equations he wrote, he knew deep down there was no way to change the past.

Still, Will’s whole demeanor… He hadn’t ever seen him so at ease, not even at the beginning of their friendship.

“Hannibal?”

Pulled out from his reverie, he answered automatically.

“Yes, Will?”

“Is everything okay? You let the dogs out, didn’t you?”

Whatever the reason for Will’s strange behavior, Hannibal was nothing if not curious. Confronted with two options, he couldn’t help but choose the most interesting.

“I did. You looked so tired I couldn’t wake you up.”

Will laughed at that.

“Always the gentleman… Still, it was my turn. I could’ve done it myself.” He said, and while he was no longer looking at him, Hannibal could see he had a smile on his face.

If he had to hazard a guess, he would say Will appeared to be daydreaming. Hannibal felt the need to continue the conversation.

“I was already awake. You’ll do it next time if it bothers you.”

That brought Will’s humor to an end; it was replaced with a soft voice.

“You always say that…”

Did he? What a wondrous accident.

Hannibal advanced towards the bed, step by step, afraid of breaking the spell that contained Will’s anger within such charming behavior. And charmed, Hannibal was.

He’d almost reached the bed when Will raised a hand to his face to comb his curls back, the very picture of casualness, as he yawned and closed his eyes. Hannibal let himself have an eyeful.

All tension gone, he was allowed to enjoy the beautiful creature Will was. Even as he lay on the bed, stretching languidly, soaking in the comfort of the covers and resting his injuries, he made a magnificent view.

Hannibal still wasn’t sure of what kept Will under that spell but he wouldn’t have much time to reflect on that, since the man talked again.

“It’s still freezing…”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you come back here and change that?”

And what could he say to that?

As soon as he saw Will moving aside the covers to make some space for him, he couldn’t say no –not that he would have in any other circumstance. Still, he allowed himself some hesitation, questioning the nature of Will’s consent in such a state to… whatever it is that could happen next.

Will looked at him strangely then, as if Hannibal had gone out of script all of a sudden, which brought him back to the present.

“My apologies, I seem to be distracted this morning.”

And wasn’t that the truth? By Will’s words, by Will’s behavior, by the knowledge that he wouldn’t deny Will anything, that he would come back to Will’s side, to his bed, even though he never had been.

“It’s fine. Just… hurry up.”

And so he began to remove his clothes under the man’s appreciative stare.

Will laughed.

“I can’t believe you went out on this weather with that old coat.”

Ah, yes. The old coat Chiyoh had stolen from one of Mason’s men. Not what he would have preferred in better circumstances, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Not that he felt like a beggar now that he was slipping under Will’s covers, and as soon as he did just that, Hannibal was assaulted by Will’s frankly, unbelievably cold embrace. He couldn’t stop the slight flinch that jumped out of him when he felt Will’s nose on his neck.

“Sorry… I told you I was freezing.”

Indeed.

Not even with all the covers, the fireplace, and the clothes he’s chosen for Will to rest in, had he managed to change the man’s propensity to get cold.

He took a moment observe the absurdity of the situation. He had come to expect nothing but blood from the man currently in his arms, nothing but blood and retribution, his forgiveness laced with reckoning, and instead he had found himself submerged in a fantasy, betrayed out of Will’s innermost thoughts, a fantasy of domesticity and peace.

Nothing he would have chosen for himself, but then again, that had been before he met him.

“We’ll have to fix that.”

As he made himself comfortable next to Will, facing him, mapping his features –first with his eyes, then with his hands– getting lost in the extension of his lashes, and trying in vain to name all the colors in Will’s irises, Hannibal understood for the first time what a fool he had been; for thinking he’d be able to destroy the image of him, that he would be able to erase him from his memory. Nothing could ever replace this feeling.

He took a steadying breath and closed his eyes, praying to whatever gods would hear, seeking forgiveness.

Sensing his distress, Will’s hand reached out to him, caressing his cheek. The roughness of its skin made it all much sweeter.

“Have you slept at all?”

“No.” He could barely speak, much less look at him.

He could almost feel the adoring look of which he was undeserving. His regret had caught up to him and had chosen this moment to make itself present as a knot in his throat.

 _You could have had this_ , it seemed to say.

“You’re thinking too loud.” Will whispered as he rested his forehead on Hannibal’s.

After a brief reprieve, he opened his eyes.

Beautiful.

“Whatever it is, think about it tomorrow… I need you with me now.”

How could he resist such temptation?

And so started the best two hours of his life, when he was allowed to hold, caress, enjoy the closeness of Will’s whole being. When his breath would catch at Will’s roaming hands and his heart would skip a beat every time the man would nuzzle his chest and the crook of his neck, seeking warmth. When two sets of lips would tempt each other, dare each other to close the distance only for Hannibal to shy away at the last minute, prolonging the torture, punishing himself for all his trespasses.

A dance, two bodies fitting perfectly around each other; a fantasy, a reminder of what could be…

Never such innocent acts of intimacy had had such a profound effect on Hannibal, but after this unexpected present from the universe, nothing short of a miracle, he could no longer envision a life without Will, and at the same time he knew he could never deserve such trust; that had it not been for Will’s lapse in his conscious, he would have never been allowed to have this, not so soon, maybe not ever.

He was woeful to lose it all with his next inquiry, but he had to try…

“Will?”

“Hmm?”

“Come with me.”

He felt the man stir in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeaaaah a cliffhanger though not the one we have come to expect, eh?
> 
> Lame, lame I know.
> 
> Next chapter will elucidate on some things, I hope.
> 
> Will is a mess.


	2. Chapter 2

Will’s dream always started the same way. A cold winter day, the fireplace roaring, and his bed, bereft of anything but himself. 

Sometimes, the bed would start “empty” and then would become less so. Sometimes, it would remain empty until he woke up. Other times, it would feel less empty with his dogs, and in rare occasions even Alana… But more often than not, his empty bed would be filled with depictions of Hannibal.

Soft, vulnerable Hannibal.

Rough and Angry.

Disdainful.

Loving, caring Hannibal.

Him, him, him…

He would visit him most often in his dreams, and Will let him.

He had stopped fighting the imago a long time ago. He saw no point in it. Often times this particular dream would be the only thing that helped him sleep, and any sort of rest was always welcome.

He didn’t quite remember when these dreams had started, except he did.

Except he didn’t want to know.

Except it didn’t matter because the dreams kept coming and he never pushed them back.

This time, the dream began with a beat up version of himself –one he could almost feel to the bone – and the cold, always the cold.

It also began with a closing door and a look-out-of-sorts Hannibal, who Will couldn’t help but love the moment he took him in. From the ill fitting clothes, to the disheveled way Hannibal’s hair fell on his face and the lack of stealth in his movements, though not for any lack of trying on his part.

He looked so human in that moment that his heart ached when Will remembered this was all a dream.

Better get to it then, better get the best of him while it lasted.

“What are you doing up? It’s freezing.”

It was never easy to catch Hannibal off guard, not even an imago of him, so when a monosyllable fell out his lips he couldn’t help but beam at it.

Definitely human... the worst of tortures.

“Did you take out the dogs?”

Will could neither see, nor hear them, but he knew they were out there. Their beds spread around the living room, toasty warm with the radiating fire… He could easily summon them there if he wanted, but Hannibal hadn’t responded. In fact, he seemed to have turned into a statue all of a sudden.

“Hannibal… Is everything okay? You let the dogs out, didn’t you?”

That brought him back… His subconscious was really playing on the vulnerable side of Hannibal today.

“I did. You looked so tired I couldn’t wake you up.”

Oh, yeah. It definitely was.

Will swallowed a groan and tried not to cover his face in shame. Who would’ve guessed this is what did it for him? To see his… Hannibal being nice.

“Always a gentleman.” He muttered, trying not to make it sound like a mockery, before he went ahead with his part.

“Still, it was my turn. I could’ve done it myself.”

He couldn’t hold back his laughter at Hannibal’s response, both for the impossibility of Hannibal not being awake before him and letting him do anything “the next time.”

“You always say that.”

And he did. He always promised a next time.

Next time he would make breakfast, next time he’d do the dishes, next time, next time, next time…

He tried to rein in his laugh before it turned self-deprecating. What an absurd fantasy this was…

Hannibal caring for him when he needed it, not because it was the polite thing to do but because he wanted to do it; Hannibal tending to him, not because he was the cause of his distress, alleviating battle wounds, scars, wiping off each other’s blood off of their skin… but being soft because he felt like it.

Out of a nervous habit Will rubbed his face with his right hand before combing his hair with his fingers. How is it that he could feel so exhausted even within a dream?

He yawned.

Well… lucid dreaming always had felt this exhausting anyway, and this particular dream did too for different reasons. One of them, made him shiver involuntarily; the other looked at him in a way that reminded him how cold he was.

“It’s still freezing…”

Hannibal blinked himself away from his stupor and strangely enough shied away from his invitation… Or what Will had always considered an invitation for something more.

It had always worked that way in the past; he’d never had a reason to make the imago understand his desires. Still, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to try again, either.

“Why don’t you come back here and change that?”

When Hannibal didn’t jump in immediately and instead began to undress sedately, but decidedly nonetheless, it became apparent to Will that he hadn’t been dealing with vulnerable or courteous Hannibal, but –out of all his iterations– he’d been dreaming of a shy Hannibal.

That, in Will’s mind, could be the only reason why –even after getting in bed–Hannibal hadn’t jumped him, not even when he drew the covers, or when Will had devoted all of his attention to watching him get undressed.

It was enough to make Will want to assault him instead, but Hannibal merely hugged him and kept him close as if he were a precious thing he was soon to lose.

This scenario was rare but not inexistent in Will’s memory. There had been times when, in dreams, they have comforted each other, held each other till dawn. This one seemed to be one of those times. Will fell into his roll willingly.

And so, they embraced each other, touching, feeling for what felt like hours. Even in dreams, time had never slowed down so drastically, so perfectly… Enough to make Will mourn the moment he’d wake up.

He’d almost lost consciousness when he heard Hannibal’s voice again.

“Will?”

He took a sigh of relief. He was still dreaming.

“Come with me.”

Feeling comfortable the way he was, he kept his eyes shut and buried his face on Hannibal’s chest before answering.

“Where would you take me this time?"

“Wherever you want to go.” He answered simply, as always.

“Could we take the dogs?” Will continued, asking out of habit.

“If it would make you happy.”

Predictable.

“… though it would complicate matters.”

That made him frown, but he refused to open his eyes. Will tried to relax even if that was not the answer he was expecting.

“Not enough space on the plane?” He tried to joke.

“It would slow us down, and make tracking us easier… Perhaps only one or two.”

That definitely didn’t sound right. The feeling of calm that had pervaded throughout his dream was dissipating. He opened his eyes.

“Hannibal, where are the dogs?” He asked, trying to remain cool.

The imago stilled, tense, as if afraid to say something that would upset him. After a minute, he answered anyway.

“If I was allowed an educated guess I would say resting, at Alana’s place.”

Hannibal held him strongly, then.

A guess.

Cold dread ran down his spine. Could it be…

“Will.”

He wasn’t dreaming.

“Don’t… don’t say anything.”

“Will…” Hannibal reached to touch his face; Will flinched back.

“Please, this is still a dream. It’s always a dream…”

He needed space. It couldn’t be true. This had to be a mistake. This couldn’t be Hannibal, not _his_ Hannibal.

He was about to slip out of the covers when strong hands grabbed his shoulder and pinned him on the mattress. He went back to closing his eyes, his body clenched so tightly, that when he felt Hannibal’s forehead on his, Will nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Shhhh…”

Hannibal was pressing his whole body against Will, and at some point had snaked his hands up to Will’s face, framing it while moving his thumbs up and down in gentle strokes. Gentle, always so gentle except, no... this time it wasn't a dream.

He was still making shushing noises when Will decided to open his eyes, not being able to control the ache to witness such tenderness.

“Hannibal?”

He was greeted with a smile.

“My wonderful boy… It will be alright.”

He couldn’t let himself believe that.

“How can you say that? It can’t… it shouldn’t.”

What kind of person would he be if he let this dream become real…

“Why? You were happy mere moments ago. Why shouldn’t this be?”

“Because this isn’t you.”

Will felt like crying. He felt so angry all of a sudden.

He incorporated himself and grabbed Hannibal’s hands to remove them from his face while a lap-full of Hannibal waited him out, patiently, for him to sort out his thoughts.

“This can’t be real. You… you aren’t like this Hannibal. You’re… you’re blood and beauty, not… not…”

Love.

Will huffed feeling betrayed by his thoughts.

What had happened in his deluded state hadn’t been… No matter how good it felt, it hadn’t been…

Will buried his face in his hands, groaning. He swallowed his shame as words started pouring out of his mouth.

“You aren’t patience, you aren’t care, shyness… you’re—“

“I’m here, Will.” He said as he grabbed one of Will’s hands by the wrists to look at him properly.

Here… That he was, alright, to his chagrin.

“This moment is real…” He continued as he kissed Will’s palm, making him lose his breath.

“… and there’s not a thing I want more that what was in my arms moments ago.”

At the time, all Will could focus on was on the truth of his words, because it was easier that to face everything else.

His speeding heartbeat, the way Hannibal’s eyes danced with the sunlight coming in from the window, the secret smile that was always there every time he looked at him.

Will couldn’t face any of that because it was real, he hadn’t come up with any of the things that had happened today and that scared him. It scared him because it was still happening.

“Will?”

He felt Hannibal’s breath before he saw him, inches away from his face.

“Come with me.”

He let himself shiver with want, with fear from that want because… what kind of person would that make him if all he wanted was to forgive him.

Will felt Hannibal move on top of him, the position couldn’t have been comfortable for a man his age. So very human…

He smiled to himself before answering.

“Only if you warm me up.”

It was a cold winter morning after all.

.fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this happened huh?
> 
> Will's fucked up mind played tricks on him and made him... think... he was... dreaming?
> 
> Sure sure sure sure sure cool alright alright
> 
> my mind begged for this to be written and I did my best... still not sure it makes sense but well... now it's out there in the world
> 
> ._.
> 
> any thoughts? comments? advice? I would deeply appreciate it
> 
> as always English is not my first language so I'm doing what I can
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
